Falling Petals
by Terry Person
Summary: "The chance to be free from thy mortal disadvantages. A chance to live long as the Aesir and Vanir. An opportunity of a lifetime." Dyana is chosen for a sacred ritual. One that she hates with all her heart and soul. Join me while I spin a tale I hope you'll like! (Rated T for violence later on. And that's... the only reason. It's pretty mild violence too... I'm sorry I'm boring!)
1. How it Began

**AN: Attention new readers and old! I updating this chapter to say that I'm going to be changing a couple things. Why? I've had a couple ideas that I hope will make the story flow better and I wanted to fix a couple things that I had messed up on before. Plus I want to start writing a lot more again! I'm hoping to update a little more regularly but... whatever happens in the future will happen! Anyway, to you new readers, ENJOY! To my old readers, shall we make this better?**

Every 100 years, Allfather Odin would go to Midgard and choose one of the young men or women to come with him to Asgard. That young man or woman would be granted the lifespan of a God, but there's a catch. They would have to serve Odin in whatever way he desires. How lucky, or unlucky, this young Midgardian is will be up to you. For this is a story for not the faint of heart. In the beginning, is more explaining her situation. That's when all heck breaks loose and people die.

* * *

"Dyana! Put a smile on your face! Today Allfather picks a special child!" Mum exclaimed while fussing over the young girl's hair and light blue dress.

"Mum, why would he pick a disabled girl like me?" the brown haired girl asked.

"Because you are beautiful. Dyana, this is Allfather we're talking about. If he chooses you, then he will make you whole," Her mother's voice soothed.

"Mum, I don't have much chance. There's no need to fuss and look pretty."

"Hush, child. It is almost time," she retorted, "Dear! Dyana is ready!"

"Coming!" came Pa's slightly muffled reply. He ran in and scooped Dyana up into his arms. She laughed in delight as her limbs hung uselessly. "And how is my little girl? Is she ready for the big day?"

"Pa, I'm 13!" she laughed.

"Nope! Don't believe you! You're just my little girl! Come now, you are to be chosen today!" he exclaimed while carrying her out the door to the village square. Her fair arms and legs dropped motionless against her Father. Her light brown hair shone in the sunlight. Her green eyes seemed to glow with light and… sadness.

"And how do you know that?" she replied sarcastically.

"Can't tell you," he whispered mischievously. He laid her in a sitting position on the Shaman's wagon. "Mr. Shaman said you could use his wagon today," Pa winked.

Dyana laughed, but her smile disappeared as she wanted to hug my father. "Don't frown, Dyana. Today is your lucky day!" he soothed stroking her face.

"Ok, I will not frown. Just for you," she said plastering a fake smile.

"That's my girl. Remember, speak in the old tongue and never look Allfather in the eyes. Or any of the Gods," Pa cautioned.

"Understood," she mumbled. There was a clasp of thunder and blinding light erupted the center of the square. When the light subsided, Pa was already in the crowd watching. Dyana turned her gaze slightly to see Allfather wearing beautiful golden armor. It was engraved most exquisitely and his winged helmet completed the outfit. His one eye swept over all of the young men and women who were gathered in the square. Some looked straight at him, others cowered. Dyana kept her eyes down and begged for him to pass over her. No one made a sound as Odin walking down the line. Even the cows were quiet in their pastures. The _crish crish_ of his armed boots was the only thing to be heard. Dyana noticed Allfather get closer from the corner of her eye. He stopped next to her a frowned.

"Dyana, daughter of Orid, a bargain from the heavens is soon to be presented unto thee," his deep voice boomed across the silent air. People flinched and Dyana felt fear wrap around her heart.

"What may thou place forth before me?" she whispered in fear.

"The chance to be free from mortal disadvantages. A chance to live long as the Aesir and Vanir. An opportunity of a lifetime," he drawled. Unbeknownst to her, she was the only one who heard his words. Everything he had said fell silent to the villager's ears.

"Under what conditions, may I ask," her quivering voice asked.

"Thou shall be the servant to one of my sons. Thou shall answer their every desire with swiftness and no complaint. Wherever and whenever they call upon you. In return, thou shalt walk with thy feet. What say thee on this bargain for life?" Odin's words seemed to echo in her head. Her breathing quickened in fear and tears pricked her eyes. _I know not what to choose! Mum wants this for me…. I wish it not! My life may be better, but as a slave? I don't want this..._

"I accept the offer granted unto mine wretched soul," she mumbled. _NO! What am I doing! NO! I don't want this!_ She screamed in her head. Her tears broke through her eyes in torrents against her white cheeks. Odin's smile seem to say that he could hear her thoughts. For his smile was not the kind smile you would expect. It was the smile of the executioner before he did his deed.

"A wise decision for one so young," he replied. He reached forward and placed a hand upon the girl's forehead. Golden light surrounded them, spinning around furiously. She closed her eyes and screamed as fear seemed to grasp her every limb. Pain laced her body as if fire. Her mind was attacked with feelings of fear, hatred, death, and…. Peace.


	2. First Day on the Job

Dyana opened her eyes. A strange ceiling with carvings of Nordic knot greeted her vision. With a small groan she turned over in her bed and sighed. Her eyes shot open when she realized what she had done. She sat up and gasped.

"I…. I can move!" she whispered with pure joy. Tears involuntarily slipped down her cheeks as she clenched her fists and moved various parts of her body she hadn't been able to move before. She got out of bed and began to dance around. Her long hair bounced against her shoulders as light from the window filtered in. She stopped when seeing a small mirror on the wall. All the joy she had felt from being able to move, was shattered like glass. She would've thought she was dreaming if she couldn't feel the stuff around her.

Her knees crumpled beneath her and she hit the ground in utter bewilderment. A deep sadness grew strands of thorns around her heart. Her mind was blank as her voice screamed her sorrow. Racking sobs convulsed her body. Dyana, slave to the Royal Gods she had grown up worshipping. Forever to have a master that wouldn't care whether she lived or died. As long as she did what they asked.

Pain erupted inside her skull when a woman smacked her with a spoon. She yelled things at the girl that fell on def ears. The woman jerked her head towards her face and slapped her hard with the spoon.

"Thou shall serve Prince Loki. Thy garments are in that box. He may punish thee as he sees fit. Do not speak with him unless it is in our tongue. Thou must only be relieved to sleep according to him. Address him as 'Sire' and only 'Sire'. If I hear thee screamin' again, I won't be as considerate," the woman screamed into Dyana's ears. She nodded numbled and the woman smacked her with the spoon again before leaving.

"Look him in the eyes if thou wishes to die," her raspy voiced warned as the door shut.

Dyana walked over to the box and put the dress that was on top on. She stopped in front of the mirror and examined herself. A huge purple bruise was forming across her cheek. It hurt like crazy, along with the rest of her head. She was more worried about a major change in her appearance…. She had light grey eyes instead of deep green. She frowned and left the small room.

As soon as she had stepped foot outside the unlockable door, she felt some invisible force smack her against the wall. Her head stung as a map of the palace and its surroundings filled it. She whimpered in pain as people passed by laughing. More information was poored into her mind with a painful consequence. Dyana's head was spinning when she finally stood up to find Prince Loki's room. She stumbled slowly down the hall where her brain said his rooms were.

An ornate black door with golden designs greeted her. "And now begins my servitude… AKA slavery," she whispered knocking lightly with a terrible sadness wrapping around her heart.

"Enter," a young voice said through the door. Dyana eyes widened at the sound of the voice. She had grown up thinking Loki was older. _Maybe he just sounds young…_ she thought opening the door.

Her eyes widened when seeing a young man that looked to be only a couple years older than her. She quickly looked at the ground not knowing what to say.

"You my servant?" the black haired boy asked reading a book.

"Yes, Sire," Dyana replied quietly. He nodded and turned a page of his book.

"Stand there until further notice," he mumbled pointing to a corner by a very intricate dresser. She stood there with her head down for a long time before looking around the room very slowly and carefully. His room was huge, everything was adorned with gold and darker colors to make a striking contrast of beauty. Her eyes travelled around the room and rested on the Prince. His dark hair was pulled into a tiny ponytail at the nape of his neck. His green and gold clothes looked a little crumpled. For a second their eyes met. Dyana was entranced with the mischievous light that seemed to play in them before looking down quickly. _I'm going to die…_ She thought soberly.

"Fetch me an apple," he ordered not seeming to notice. Dyana nodded and made her way to the kitchens. A barrel of apples sat to the side. She went into a mental panic attack seeing a bunch of different kinds and not being given a specific one to get.

"I'm gonna die…" she whispered looking through the apples. She ended up just grabbing a bunch of different kinds hoping she wasn't going to die… She knocked on the door again holding the apples in her skirt.

"Enter," the voice inside said. She entered and felt her chest constrict in fear. She stopped after closing the door and looked at the ground. "Did I not say _an_ apple?"

Dyana froze and felt tears prick her eyes. "Forgive me, Sire. Thou did not imply which apple thou preferred so…. I…" she mumbled with a quivering lip. Loki raised a brow and pointed to an empty spot beside him.

"Place them there," he ordered looking back at his book. Dyana nodded and placed the apples next to him. She looked over and saw a tiny smile tugging at his lips. A cold chill ran up her spine at the sight. She averted her eyes and went back to her corner.

"You know…" he said casually grabbing a red apple, "Servants don't last long with me. The longest lasted… three weeks. I'm interested to see how long you last. Especially with this wit of yours."

Dyana gulped and broke into a cold sweat. _I hate this but… I don't feel like dying at thirteen._ She heard his book snap shut and flinched. He got up and walked over to her. He was just barely taller than her. Either way, his eyes would be even with her's if she looked up. She felt his hand gently grab her chin and urged her to turn her head to the right. She closed her eyes tight in fear. His fingers gently touched the dark bruise on her left cheek.

"Take this book back to the library. Bring me back another one. I don't care which one," he instructed giving her the book. Dyana nodded and quickly went do as asked. She couldn't read any of the title so she just grabbed one that looked cool. When she returned, Loki was on his bed with a different book. He was laying on his back and looked upside down at her.

"Let me see what you brought!" he said resting his book on his stomach. Dyana handed him the book and immediately went back to her corner.

* * *

The hours rolled by and it soon was dusk. Dyana heard heavy footsteps outside just before the door was flung open.

"Brother!" a young blonde bellowed barging in. He looked close to Loki's age and was followed by a servant clad in red and gold. Dyana looked down at her own and noticed it was a dark green with golden trim.

"What do you need, brother?" Loki asked not taking his eyes off his book.

"Hold up," he said looking at the girl in the corner, "Is this your new servant?"

"Yes," Loki responded with what sounded like disapproval. Dyana kept her eyes down but noticed a smirk from Thor's servant.

"How long have you been with such a beauty?" Thor asked cocking his head to the side.

"Eight hours and twenty-seven minutes," Loki replied turning a page.

"Really? Isn't that above average?"

"No, the average is two days."

"Looks to me like a good start. Anyways… Father wishes you to come to the banquet tonight."

"Oh joy."

"See you then, brother!" Thor exclaimed leaving. The other servant stuck his nose in the air and left.

"You have permission to punch Thor's servants if you wish," Loki said sitting up. Dyana froze and her features had a slightly confused look. "His servants have always acted like snobs to the servants I am given. If you punch one, I'll cover for you. At least he didn't see your bruise."

"Wh-" Dyana started before fearing for her life again.

"You can speak," Loki said putting a book away.

"What does thou mean by not seeing my bruise?" she whispered fearfully.

"I hid it earlier knowing that the other servants are pretty stupid and idiotic. Besides, I don't need rumors flying around that I hurt you," he explained, "You're excused for the night."

Dyana nodded and left. She touched her cheek and still felt pain shoot into her face. She was confused but decided to put it off for a while. She was about to turn and corner and stopped when hearing voices.

"The new servant, from Midgard."

"Prince Loki's servant?"

"Yes, her! She was crying this morning. It was hilarious!"

"Really? Ha! Bet she won't last long!"

"I agree. I'll bet she be gone within three days."

"I bet by tomorrow!"

There was loud laughter and the voices moved down the hall. Dyana clenched her teeth in anger.

"From here thence. I vow to stay as Loki's servant for as long as I may. I shall prove those fools wrong," she muttered angrily and with a touch of fear.


End file.
